Rolling Country
by Anime C.P
Summary: Romano has been compared to Italy way too many times, so much he has lost count. When the person he wants attention from doesn't even realize how he feels, he begins to roll downward on a spiral of emotions. This is his journey on that spiral down toward the inevitable. WARNING: Rated T for Lovi's mouth, Character Death, Slight OOC, Mentions of War. Hints of Spamano


** Hi there! This is my very first fanfic, and I would love to have constructive criticism! It will help me with some other ones I am planning to do! There is some head cannons in here. I also had to re-upload it since I had originally had lyrics in here... .  
I strongly suggest to listen to "Rolling Girl" By Hatsune Miku while reading this. It will make more sense when reading it. Now please enjoy the story! **

**- Warning: OOC, I didn't mean for it to happen, it sort of did though! **

**- Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA**

* * *

They always loved Venizeno, always him over me. I never get them liking him more; he was always so weak and surrendering to easy foes. They always compare me to him. I act like the words they say never get to me, but deep down, I can feel them tearing me apart.

"Why can't you be more like Italy? Why are you so lazy, Italy can at least clean stuff? "They all say while having a disappointed look on their face. I want to hate them and him, but I can't hate him. It's not his fault he is as perfect as he is. I can't stay mad at him for long either.

I dream of when I can be myself without being compared to someone else, and people caring about who I am and how the words affect me, even Nonno preferred him over me. He would steal him away for our birthday. He even didn't look for me when his house burned down, that left me fending for myself for three years til Austria found me. That's when the comparison started.

Even with all the thoughts I have and the things people say, my mind is so clustered with so many thoughts, it can hurt so very much. But I can't since I have to protect his heart over my own. I learned that shortly after Holy Roman Empire left, when he came over and cried into my shoulder and said that he died. But who will watch my own heart and protect it from the same kind of hurt that he went through?

The tears start, but on the inside, in my heart.

* * *

I was cooking some pizza in the kitchen with Spain, that bastard, and I was thinking about the words I just heard from another country, France (the damn pervert who shouldn't be allowed anywhere near me) during the meeting. I shook my head, even though I still wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. I shouldn't have been thinking about of that shit, because the next thing I know I hear his voice pulling me out of my thoughts, "Hey Roma, are you ok? You're spacing out."

I just glared at him, even though it was half-hearted. Some heat rushed up to my face, "There's nothing wrong, tomato bastard." I muttered back at him. What the hell is going on? I usually yell at him nothing's wrong and how big of a bastard he is, man he is going to be suspicious. But he didn't question any further and continued to cut the vegetables that the pizza was going to need. He was always oblivious and dense! He can't even tell how much I like him, even though he loves to tease me. Even the wine bastard knows I love him. He rarely asked if I was ok, even when I was little. He only asked if he was genuinely worried, or if I did something clumsily and ended up hurting myself.

I sighed and continued to get the dough ready, "_That was too close_." I thought as I lightly punched the dough, "_I need to be more careful on how I act on the feelings, damn heart_**. **_They shouldn't have been able to feel. I_ "The rest of the night went without further questions and it was peaceful, until later that night, when I couldn't sleep because of the thoughts I was having, they all hurt too the point it's hard to breath. Especially with a war that people have joined, we haven't yet thank goodness, but how much longer till' we do?

Now the tears are over flowing in my heart, to the point it's drowning.

* * *

"Look at what you did! Why can't you be more like my little Italy? "The Prussian said to me as he started to rub his face on Italy's. I shuttered as he rubbed his gross, German face on my brothers face. I said muttered curse words to him as I cleaned up glass pieces that were scattered over the floor. I cut myself by accident, picking up a pretty large piece. Great, now I have to clean up the glass, AND clean up a scratch. Spain didn't care; he was too drunk off his ass to care, while he was sitting with France laughing like douches. I waked away, muttering curses in Italian, from the bastards to throw away the glass that HE broke. It's not my fault he gets klutzy when he is drunk.

I guess he heard me curse at him and followed me, welled stumbled behind me. As I went into the kitchen, once I realized he was there, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. The smell of alcohol was strong of his breath; I nearly threw up on the Potato Bastard. He was all in my face telling me how I should learn to act like an adult and not some stupid kid who can't take care of himself, and that Italy needs protection since he is too innocent to care about things like this. He dropped me on my ass, and then turned and staggered away to go get more to drink with France and Spain. I ran to my room after, I couldn't handle the pain that, that statement sent to my heart. I broke down the minute I made it into my room and locked the door. I just slid down to the floor and chocked on a sobbed, but no tears came out when I sobbed. I wanted to rip my heart out, it's giving unwanted emotions. Instead, I grabbed my crystal rosary that Spain gave to me when I first came to live at his house. The crystal was soon dyed with my blood, it was dyed red.

The thoughts came way to fast to stop them before I could stop them. Why can't I be cute and innocent like Italy? It would save me this entire heart ache, and who does the second potato bastard think he is? It was Prussia who was the one who knocked over the glass, not me. So whose fault is it really? Definitely not mine, but his. And because of Prussia, I am sitting her bleeding, praying to god that something good could happen to me.

I took a deep breath in, and coughed. I didn't realize that I was keeping my breath in. This is why I hate Spain being friends with those two; they are nothing but trouble, especially when they are drunk! They are horrible when they aren't and ten times worse when drunk. It's not Spain's fault that they are like that, though it is his fault that he is friends with them.

My heart is too full of tears, a small tear drops down my cheek.

* * *

****Another Mistake! Another Fucking Mistake! How many times am I going to be allowed to make a stupid and small mistake, and get compared to Italy! I sometimes wonder if I do it on purpose. I don't think I am, and if I am, I have a damn good reason. No one notices me or recognizes me as a country without doing stupid things like this. I don't want to be known as an annoying little kid, but I will continue if that is what makes me noticed.

Spain was over at my house because he was worried about the whole Prussia thing yesterday. I told him he didn't have to come over, but he did anyways. He also told me some upsetting news; His boss told him he was joining the war, and that we won't be able to visit each other like this for a while. So I was glad he came over, but then I made a mistake. He acted like he didn't care, but his eyes said something completely different. We were silently watching tv while sitting on the couch, while I was thinking.

"I will roll again today. " I mumble, smiling all the while. This has so many meanings, yet they are all true, every single one of them. I look over at Spain; he gave me a weird look, as if I was crazy. Then he went back to watching football, I acted like he didn't even look over at me, but I noticed.

This time, two silent tears fall.

* * *

Italy was visiting claiming that, "It's been forever since I last saw you!" I know the real reason he is coming over though, he feels guilty about all the things people are saying to me. He should know better than to assume that it's his fault, if it's anyone, it's mine.

He came over; we were having a fun time, it was as if we were little kids again, laughing at anything. We talked; it became late faster than it should have. We decided just to cook some pasta and eat it. It was quite while we cooked, a peaceful quiet. I smiled to myself, "_maybe I won't make any more mistakes_**.**"

While we were eating is when Italy finally broke the silence with a question that shocked me enough to stop eating, "Is it painful to be compared to me?" I had to look at his face to make sure he wasn't lying; he had a very serious look on his face, telling me that he was indeed quite serious.

"No, it doesn't hurt me. It did at first, and then it became this numbing feeling that just grew more with the words. "I replied. I only partly lied, some of it was true. The numbing feeling was true, but I still feel the pain before the numbing feeling comes.

"Oh, are you all right now? " He asked with a concern look on his face. I felt bad; I knew I could not tell him the truth. At least not yet, one day I will. I sighed and took a big breath, "I am fine. I should be better soon. "

"_Not just yet, because there is a long way to go and there will be no end_**.** " Is what I wanted to tell him, so very badly.

Later, more tears cascaded down my cheeks.

* * *

****I was in my room after a meeting, god I hate those. I was just sitting with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms around them. I was thinking about what others have said to me, not caring what they think of me anymore. But I started thinking that I am not what I used to be, as if I lost who I was, or if I am just a shadow of who I used to be. I missed those days when Venizeno and I would play and not care what others thought of us.

But now, thinking about all the things that have been said to me realize that I don't remember who said what unless I can distinctly remember when it was said. And those are very few times. Like a few of France, Prussia, Hungary, and some others. While all the others just sound like it came from the same person, and that all voices say the thing to me every time I hear it. Am I losing it? I must be, because I can remember everything else perfectly, besides those comments and who said what.

Even the colors have lost meaning! As if they melted of a painting that was once beautiful, but now just a black and white picture. All the colors use to mean something to me until all the words started to mix, and now they all seem to mix together, to mock me how I can't understand them. It's like I reach for them, but when I grab, I come back empty handed! It's so god dam frustrating!

The tears are silently rolling down my cheek, and with no stopping anytime soon.

* * *

It was during day two of the meeting, I was just staring out the window during the 20 minute break that we have. I am not looking at anything in particular, but just looking at how fast the people move and how slow the cars move, and how elegant the free birds are, sighing, wishing how I could be like them. I feel like crying, but I keep my emotions in check.

Just a short time ago, when the break started, I was getting scorned by another country who thought I was dumping all of my responsibilities on my brother. I didn't say anything and pretended to ignore, even though I was really listening to them. Those words hurt me; I began to wonder if I do dump my responsibilities on him? And if I did, I didn't mean too, I never mean to! I try to take more than what is asked of me. Sighing again, I need to calm down before anyone else sees me like this.

"Frattelo! " I jumped because I was surprised someone was already here. I look over my right shoulder to see my brother smiling at me. I try to smile, only to make it about half way, "Hi Frattelo. " I replied numbly. There was an awkward silence that followed. I went back to looking out the window for a few minutes, he joined me. It was irony; it looked like there was a mirror in between us.

The silence was broken a while after he came in, "Are you okay, Romano? " I turned to look back at him. He looked at me with a concern look on his face. It was hard to hold his strong gaze, who knew he was this fucking concerned. It made me wince, to think that he was that actually concerned. "Nothing's wrong." I mumble. Dam, something must be really wrong with me. It would be hard for him to believe something wasn't wrong.

"Okay! I am going to go find Germany then!" He skipped out of the room after we said our temporary good-byes. I had some more free time to think, but as I watched him leave, I realized that he wasn't as perfect as people thought he was. He has made his fair share of mistakes as I have, but no one notices. Well, unless they captured him during war, then they sent him back to Germany. They rarely sent him back to me. That's because I sat in some kind of prison for most of the times as a hostage, and no one cares. I started to laugh while crying; I didn't realize that I was crying up until now.  
Now the tears are really heavy and have no end.

* * *

More mistakes I seem to be making more than before, more mistakes seem to be coming at me more often than before. This was way more shit than I can handle at once. Maybe if I had it coming less often, I could. Or maybe I would still be in this situation, no matter how many mistakes I made.

I was sitting on my couch sharpening my halberd that Spain gave me after I left him to become independent. I giggled to myself as I sat on my couch in my living room, "Look, I'm rolling again." I laugh through the tears as they were coursing down my cheeks. I said that so quietly as if there were people around, but there wasn't anyone there, no one to share my pain with, no one to be there as I cried, and no one there to calm me down.

"I'll roll one more time; just you stand there and watch me do it," Saying it just as quiet as my previous statement, and saying it to someone as if someone was there listening to me be a crazy person.

I've been wondering if I will ever stop rolling, or will I continue to roll even though I don't want to? I don't think I will ever stop rolling, but I've thought of many different options to fix this problem, but none of them will end well if I do them.

The tears come by the dozens now, they will never end.

* * *

It was another meeting, this time it was at Rome. "**Home, mine and Italy's home.**" I inwardly smiled at myself. The best thing is that no one has compared me to Italy. It has been a great day, but I spoke too soon when in the middle of the meeting, America complained about how there was no McDonald's around. Another country piped up and smirked, "Well maybe it was Romano's idea. He never did like that kind of food. He also sort of looks like a little girl from behind, a small and petite one at that, but still a girl. "

A bunch of countries laughed at his statements. I glared in the general direction and flipped off the person who said it, which caused more people to laugh. So what if I look like a girl from behind? They must need a good laugh and all, since it is during a war, but it still hurt. I looked and saw Spain and Italy looked at me with worry and pity in their eyes. I just looked away from them quickly, and looked at my papers that I needed to sign and fill out instead, ignoring everyone else.

The meeting continued after everyone calmed down, which took fucking forever, the meeting continued. I got pocked in the arm by Italy, I looked over and he passed me a note. I went and opened the note. The note said one thing very clear, _Are you okay? _I grabbed a pencil and wrote down on the paper, _Not yet, just a little bit longer, then I will be okay. _I passed him the paper back. He read it and nodded, and smiled at me. I did the same.

In reality, I am quite hurt that these so called "friends" of mine. They always do stupid shit like this. Well fuck them for being mean, and fuck me for thinking that they will change and notice how they hurt me with those words.

Later that night, I cried, a whole river.

* * *

"_That's it_**!**" I thought as I slammed my house door shut and ran up to my room, and locking the door once I get into it. I threw my shoes against the opposite wall and undressed til I was just in my under shirt and boxers. I then proceeded to plopped on my bed. I cuddled my face into my pillow as I grew angrier by the minute as I continued to think of what happened that day.

"_That's the last straw! The last fucking straw! Who the hell do they think they are? What they said to me was, true. It would be better if Venizeno was the only one who was the personification of Italy. We all know that! But how they said it was as if no one would care if I died. Would that be true? I wish Spain and Italy loved me, but they have way to many other people to love them. So they wouldn't miss me, would they?_"

I wouldn't even be thinking this if my boss hadn't called and told me we were going to war, against my friends. Italy reacted badly, and so I took it upon myself that I would be the one on the front lines representing Italy. Meaning if I get fatally wounded, I will be the one to die, not Italy. And everyone will be happy. And that Italy would take care of the commanding center and the army training. Italy knew all of it as well, he started crying.

I got to meet my allies; they were fine to talk to, until they started to say that if I die one the battlefield no one would miss me, and how they wished they could fight alongside Italy instead of me. I told them to shut the fuck up and how they don't know what they are talking about, and how I am ASLO Italy. They all laughed, so I stood up and left. I don't care if the meeting wasn't over; I just had to get out.

"_Would Italy sit there with a smile on his face as he looked at my cold dead body? Would Spain not even notice that I wasn't there to when he practiced with his halberd_**?**" I was crying at that point. I noticed the gun that was given to me when I first became independent and when the mafia first started to become big, by my bed, I picked it up. "_Would they? Should I do it and find out?_" I debated, switching the gun from hand to hand. I cocked the gun when I thought I should, but then reason took over and I finally decided that I shouldn't. I put the gun back on my dresser in the box. I know that if I was meant to die, the war will make sure I will die. I will go one more time, roll one more time, see Italy one more time, and speak with Spain one more time.

I cried the whole night with no ending.

* * *

I know my end is soon, my 'allies' have sent me on a suicide mission. My armies and I will attack the Spanish while they infiltrate the camps from the above. I have a halberd and a gun with me, just in case I meet Spain and have to face off with him, knowing how hard it will be if I have to face him. I already have a wound that no one knows about, except Italy. I told him everything before I left. He cried and hugged me, telling me that if I die, he will know because he can feel it.

We ran right into the army, and Spain was leading it with a frown. I wasn't used to him having to frown, let alone go against me in a fight, damn bosses not agreeing with each other. We were about ten feet away from each other. "_This is it_**.**"

"Hi there, Spain. Long time no see. "

"Romano, I hate that it has gotten to this, but it is what it is. I wish you weren't my opponent. But…" He grabbed his Halberd, "We fight it just between us two, and are armies won't get involved until one of us goes down. " I frown; I can feel tears burning in the corners of my eyes. I get out my halberd so we could fight equally. "If that is what you want to do, tomato bastard. My men won't fight unless I go down. "I get into a fighting stance, he does the same. Then we charge at the same time.

We had this dance going, as if we were back at one of his parties. But this is different, one wrong move, and we could die. The rain was falling hard as if mourning for whoever loses this battle, and if the sky actually cared if one of us dies. As time passed, we started to slow down due to how tired we are getting, we must have been at this for over an hour. All I keep thinking is that I don't want to kill him, he is the one that raised me, took care of me, helped me realize who I am, and what I was meant to do.

The last thought is what made me hesitant, that's when I made the wrong move. I miss stepped and our halberds got caught together. He pushed my weapon out of my hands using his strength, and I managed stumbled back in shock. But he put his halberd behind my knees and pulled. He managed to trip me so I would fall flat on my ass, and he did all of that within ten seconds. He had the point of his halberd pointed at me, I was shocked. He was breathing hard from our fight. When I came out of shock, I smiled a sad smile, "You win, Boss Spain. Go ahead and finish it. " I stood my ground, waiting for him to finish.

He was shocked that I even said that, as if I went crazy. He stiffened when I said that, "What, Romano? Are you serious? "I chuckled darkly at his comment. I grabbed his collar and pulled his ear next to my mouth, I whispered to him," Your army will think you're weak if you don't. Please, I know you're tired of this shit too. And you know that it will be better if I die instead of countless other countries that aren't a part of it. "

I pulled back just enough to see his face, he looked like he was going to cry, but he closed his eyes. I felt him pull back far enough to aim, that's when the pain burst through my stomach, and I couldn't help but gasp. There was more pain than I'd anticipated. I stood in shock for the first minute or two, I coughed and something came up, the taste of metal hit my mouth. I then fell to the ground. Spain then caught me and cradled me in his arms. Coughs racked my body, for all I could feel was the increasing numbness. I could feel I was crying but I don't know how badly, hell, I probably look like a goddamn mess.

"Romano, are you okay now? " I hear him ask. I must be losing my mind, because it sounded like he was crying. I can't feel anything but the growing numbness in my stomach, why does it hurt so much, yet at the same time, a great relief.

I smiled through the pain and winced when I shifted to get away from the point of the halberd, but with no success. The pain came back, pushing away the numbness in my stomach. Too bad the numbness was spreading across my body faster than I would have liked it.

"Not yet, once I stop breathing it will be better, though." I continued to try to get away from the halberd. Spain must have gotten my silent plea, because I felt the halberd slip out of the wound completely; I couldn't help but cry out in pain. My vision went white when the pain burst through my whole body, then my vision started to go blurry. I gripped onto his shirt with a vice grip, it comforted me that I wasn't dying alone. I heard Spain say something to both armies; I had to ask him a question, before I died. I just had to know the truth, or else I would die without knowing the truth. I moved my head to rest in the crock of his neck.

"Spain? Will you miss me when I am gone? Will Italy miss me too? "I was surprised at how weak my voice sounded. He stiffened as I said that. I could tell I made him feel uncomfortable with the question. As if he didn't suspect something was wrong this whole time. I couldn't see anymore, and my hearing is fading way to fast. I hope I can hear his answer, I needed to know. I need the truth, and from one of the ones I love.

"You won't die Romano! You can't, your brother needs you. I even need you Lovi. "He started to ramble on. He was denying it, even the evidence was pouring out of the wound. I had to get his attention; I had to know his answer. I wanted to tell him he loved me, and that Venazino and he would miss me. I groaned, blood slipping between my lips. I shifted the best I could towards his heart, hearing his heartbeat; strong, still there.

"Antonio, you bastard, answer the damn question." I groaned. I felt one of his hands move from my wound, to come up to my face and brush out some hair that was in my face. There was a moment of hesitance before I heard him answer, and it shocked me more than anything I have ever heard before.

"We will both miss you, more than you will ever know. We will both think of you every day. I am glad I was able to raise you. "I think he said more things, but it starts to grow together. I know I will be dying any second now, I can see Nonno standing with his hand extended to me.

"That makes me very happy. Tell Italy that I love him, and I will miss you both. I love you Spain. Arrivederci, Antonio, ti amo, arrivederci." I said with the last little bit of strength left, my voice fading towards the end. Then, I grabbed Nonno's hand and walked away towards the light. I looked back and I could see Antonio crying, but smiling. I know he will be happy in the future, whether I will be there beside him or not. I hope Frattelo is as well, I don't want to be the one to cause his tears. I then turn and walk alongside Nonno.

One tear fell down my face and my heart was crying, but of joy.

* * *

**R&R**


End file.
